


Anguish

by Zerotaste



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Act 5 Chikage, Face-Fucking, Fantasizing About Torture, Hate fucking, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Past Relationship(s), Vomiting Up Cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27927997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerotaste/pseuds/Zerotaste
Summary: Shoving open the door to the storage room he shoves December inside before closing it. The expression on his face is still blank and confused as April pulls a heavy chest in front of the door to ensure they can’t be disturbed. He’ll remember soon even if April has to drag it out of him. A forceful reminder of his crimes and a final goodbye to the person he thought December was. There’s no better place for it than a dimly lit room filled with all sorts of useless junk. He doesn’t need a fanfare or luxury for this sort of goodbye and December doesn’t deserve it.Written for Gekkagumi Week Day Five – Betrayal
Relationships: Mikage Hisoka/Utsuki Chikage
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Anguish

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very not nice fic, Chikage is in his worst state right here, fantasizing about torturing Hisoka and having no idea that what happened was actually July’s fault. Please make sure you’ve read the tags and are prepared to read such content.
> 
> Text in italics is whatever the language is that all the agents speak in between each other.

Sleeping in a corner of the courtyard as if he’s some stray cat… he really is living a carefree life. Life doesn’t always favour those who play fair and this is proof of it. Just when exactly had he started planning to betray them? Months? Years? A comfortable and cosy lifestyle isn’t something they’re allowed, once you’re part of The Organisation, you’re part of it until you die. December should be dead, he’s the one who should have died that day. If the mission had to go the way it did, August is the one who should have survived. April would find a way to bring back his memories and even if he couldn’t, they could start anew; he’d still be the same August if December is anything to go by. That is, if December even lost his memories at all. If he was able to pull the wool over the eyes of two skilled and trained agents for however long it was that he was planning to betray them, then pretending not to remember who he is and what he’s done would be a piece of cake.

Fingers move to the ring on his hand, feeling the metal of the jewellery that used to belong to the one he took away from him. Narrowing his eyes as he focuses more on the sleeping lump, he makes up his mind. He’ll make him remember or force him to drop this act, whichever it may be. There are things from their past that he has to react to, things that even if his mind can’t remember, his body must. If he can break through that barrier, the rest should all come flooding back. He’ll have him on his knees and vulnerable when he remembers just what he did and realises exactly what April knowing all about it means for him. He doesn’t really want to acknowledge the part of him that suggests it’s a way of saying goodbye to what they had. One last time of being together before he sends him off to be tortured and rot in The Organisation’s cells.

Approaching the pile of clothes curled up in what has to be an uncomfortable place, he gives him a light kick to the side. Nothing to hurt him (yet), just like something he would have done in the past, long before he knew what December was really planning. The action gets him a hand closed around his ankle, swift and gripping tight, it’s clear that he hasn’t lost his reflexes. As a sleepy eye blinks up at him, confusion tinges his annoyance at having been woken. It’s the same confusion he’s constantly facing April with. It makes him furious, maybe he lost his memory on purpose so he wouldn’t have to remember what he did and could leave that life behind entirely. Leave them behind entirely. So desperate for your freedom but unable to handle what you had to do to gain it? There’s no other word for that than cowardice.

He doesn’t say a word, leaning down and grabbing the arm that grabbed his ankle, he jerks him to his feet. There’s a half hearted struggle and an attempt to free his arm but it’s accompanied by that confused expression again. He’s going to wipe that off his face for sure.

“Chikage… wanna sleep.” He mumbles, yet again barely trying to get his arm back.

“That part of you hasn’t changed one bit. You need to stop sleeping in places like that.” Starting to move he pulls him along, dragging him with him without giving him a choice. “You go and secure this comfortable life for yourself and you still fall asleep in weird places.”

There aren’t that many options for places where they won’t risk being disturbed here and his real nature needs to remain hidden from all the rest. December complains sleepily the whole time he’s dragging him along, his words are annoying but April can’t be bothered with trying to distinguish each individual one. Why should he listen to anything he has to say that isn’t an admission of guilt? Even if December tries to beg for forgiveness he won’t listen. He’ll never forgive December for what he’s done and he needs to suffer what he personally has tenfold. Once he’s had the company fall apart in front of his eyes, he’ll have some real revenge of his own before handing him over. April had been tortured for days over crimes that December committed and he’ll personally ensure that every bit of physical and emotional anguish he experienced during that time is amplified as much as it possible can be for December. By the time another agent picks him up he wants him barely able to keep consciousness or move and fully realising just how wrong what he did was.

Shoving open the door to the storage room he shoves December inside before closing it. The expression on his face is still blank and confused as April pulls a heavy chest in front of the door to ensure they can’t be disturbed. He’ll remember soon even if April has to drag it out of him. A forceful reminder of his crimes and a final goodbye to the person he thought December was. There’s no better place for it than a dimly lit room filled with all sorts of useless junk. He doesn’t need a fanfare or luxury for this sort of goodbye and December doesn’t deserve it.

_“You didn’t think you could keep playing dumb and I was just going to accept it, did you?”_ He swaps languages to the one the three of them used together the most, the one December should be most comfortable in. One that if he has lost everything, might help with jogging his memory about his past. _“Losing your memory is just far too convenient, don’t you think?”_

As he approaches him, a hand comes under December’s chin, jerking it upwards so their eyes can meet.

_“I don’t know…”_ His brow furrows as he speaks as though he’s confused by the fact he can understand and respond. _“I don’t remember.”_

Clicking his tongue, he grabs his jaw a little more forcefully. With his other hand he brushes back his long fringe, exposing the near blind eye December had started to hide once his sight in it started to deteriorate severely. Nobody here seems to know about that. No one here knows anything about him. Some sleepyhead sweet freak who just showed up one day on their door step, what a joke. Would they accept him so willingly if they knew about the blood on his hands? Both August’s and all those lives he’d taken before him. They wouldn’t accept Chikage if they knew about what April’s done either. Existing in the normal world, as normal people is impossible for them. The only place they belonged was in their little family and December went and ruined that.

_“I’ll make you remember, December.”_

For a second he hesitates, thinking about how stupid it is for him to lean down and kiss him in a situation like this but this particular part isn’t about December, this moment is about him. He loathes him, despises him with every inch of his being, but in the past that isn’t how it was. He wouldn’t call it love or maybe even like, but it was something and even if it was all a lie from December’s end, he’s selfishly having one last taste of what they used to have before it all fell apart.

December doesn’t resist as their lips meet but he doesn’t kiss back either. Standing there still and stupid as April tries to get that fire out of him that used to make this fun. They were never really tender, usually fuelled by lust and none of that comes through as December lets him kiss him without responding himself. It’s stupid, so stupid. He’s stupid for even wanting to do this, let alone acting on it. Pulling December’s hair sharply, he gets a small complaint at the pain but no further response. He may as well be kissing a corpse.

Pulling back and glaring at him, December’s expression still hasn’t changed. There’s no disgust at the kiss and there’s no recognition. Just that confused and slightly blank expression plastered onto his features. Pushing the oversized cardigan off his shoulders, he watches it pool to the floor as December again does nothing. In the past he’d fight back to this sort of thing, bite April’s tongue if he didn’t want to kiss and shove a marshmallow in April’s mouth before leaving the room if he’d rather sleep. None of that spiteful and cruel side is coming through right now at all. Deep down he has to know he’s done wrong and he’s just letting April do whatever he wants as atonement, even if he doesn’t know what it’s for yet.

Pushing his shirt up his chest, one hand traces over scars that April is very familiar with. None he can see are new; he really has been living far too easily. Once December remembers he’ll restrain him, before showing him each and every one he got from The Organisation itself while being tortured for his potential involvement in December’s plan. Make it clear how much he was punished for something that wasn’t his crime and something that tore him apart. December’s body will soon mimic his own; each and every one of them carved into his skin until his composure breaks and his voice is hoarse from screaming.

That thought is exciting in a perverse way, breaking him with his own hands bit by bit, first making him watch this place all fall to ruin without being able to do anything to stop it and then ruining him as well. The salt from his tears stinging as they flow over open wounds, unable to stop them and unable to do anything to free himself. April’s always been good at torturing people, who would have thought one of the two people he ever trusted with his life would be the one he looked forward to breaking the most.

Shoving December to his knees, his pushes his face against his cock, letting him feel just how hard he’s getting. December doesn’t know why and he’s not about to tell him. That’s a surprise for later, he’d hate for him to run now and have to track him down.

_“You know what to do.”_

At that, December finally reacts. Hands move to his waist band and April lets him move back far enough to pull down his pants and boxers. Rather than anything that shows he remembers doing this before far more willingly, there’s a hint of disgust on his face as takes April’s almost completely hard cock in his hand and leans forward to slide it between his lips. If April closes his eyes though, he can almost pretend that everything’s back to how it used to be. August is in his lab a room over and the two of them are giving in to their bodies’ desires after getting into a petty argument over something stupid. It was usually rough between them, but that’s how they liked it. Twisting his fingers into December’s hair, he starts to rock into his mouth, egging him on to taking more of his cock with each thrust.

The warmth of December’s mouth around him feels incredible and even if he’s lost his memory, he hasn’t forgotten the basics of sucking a dick. A quiet groan leaves his lips as he lets himself enjoy the pleasure. It’s been too long since he was with someone, been too long since he let himself be. Knowing that if he did memories of December would overwhelm him, he’s not let himself. He can’t guarantee what he might do to someone if halfway through he was filled with anger at what December did. What December did… Tightening his fingers even more he smiles when he hears a quiet whimper of pain. That’s right, this isn’t the time to let himself reminisce at all. He’s got December with him right now and while this is still far from the main event in his revenge, it’s more of a chance to hurt him than he’s gotten to date.

Feeling arousal throb through his cock at that realisation, he thrusts forward forcefully. There’s a small gag from December as his lips are held in place at the base of his cock but he doesn’t relent. The way he can feel his throat contracting around him as it complains about him being shoved down it feels so good massaging the head of his dick. Only pulling out a couple of centimetres, he shoves back in fully, never giving December the chance to catch his breath properly or rest and loving the way that with each thrust more tears start to well up in his visible eye, soon spilling over and pouring down his cheek.

Finally pulling back, he gives him a chance to cough, watching as spit pours from his lips as his body tries to reject something that’s not even there anymore. He doesn’t give him too long though, just enough of a chance to get his hopes up that such treatment might be over before pushing his cock right back between his lips. Moaning low and satisfied he goes right back to his previous pace, pushing him right to the limits of what he can take and enjoying both how it feels and the satisfaction of being able to wreck December like this.

They were never gentle in the past but if this does cause December to remember, or when he does in the future, he’ll definitely know that this is different. This is a message as much as it is sick depraved pleasure. What they had was in the past and he can’t have December think in any way that it’s going to make him take any mercy on him. In fact he’s going to be far crueller to him because they used to be so close. If he were merely some other agent or enemy he’d hand him right over to the organisation but this is far too personal for that. Another low sounds of pleasure leaves him as he picks up the pace. Brutal and punishing, he wouldn’t be surprised if this affects December’s voice tomorrow, he wants to hear it slightly rough and know that he’s still suffering from what he’s doing right now.

He knows it can’t last forever but things feel like they’re coming to a peak far too soon. There’s no way he can hold back or slow down though. Not with the way the occasional gagging from December and the tears staining his cheeks are as much a part of his pleasure as the physical. Lose those and this wouldn’t feel as good any more, lose those and this wouldn’t be fun at all. Maybe this will make him remember who he is, maybe it won’t but being able to take out even the tiniest piece of his loathing on him makes it worth it entirely. Again and again December’s nose is forced into his pubic hair as he has him deep throat him, until he stops while fully inside.

Holding December in place, his head tips backwards and he lets a raw sound of satisfactions spill from his lips. With each pulse of cum down December’s throat he can tell he’s struggling to swallow it and struggling to take in enough air though his nose at the same time. He won’t pull back until he’s forced him to drink every last drop though. December always hated the taste of cum and the way it felt in his throat. He wonders if he’ll remember that once he pulls back and he’s left with the sticky feeling coating it the whole way down.

As he does at last pull back and takes in the mess he’s made, a final, delayed throb of arousal flows through him. Nothing comes of it, but he wipes his cock off on December’s lips regardless, only serving to add to the heavy layer of spit surrounding them. For a moment December sits frozen, not even looking up at him. Has he remembered? Is it come back to him? Or is he traumatised because he doesn’t remember having previously lived a life where he’d had to do so much worse just to survive?

Then it comes, his first movements. Coughing, choking, distress flashing over his features before he leans forwards and bracing himself against the floor with his arms, retches. Not much comes up, mostly spit tinged with April’s cum but as he continues to vomit it up, the puddle of cum and spit on the floor grows beneath him.

_“Do you remember now?”_ Pulling his pants back up he keeps watch on Hisoka’s body rejecting what he’d just forced him to swallow.

A shake of his head, another cough, more spilling from his lips before he finally looks up at him and meets his eyes. Rather than any hint of recognition showing on his face, there’s wariness and distrust. Wiping the back of his mouth with his hand he doesn’t even bother to try and stand, just sitting there in place as April stares back at him.

Turning sharply, he decides he’s seen enough. December will remember what he’s done at some point, he’ll just have to find another method. That’s definitely why he shoves the chest too hard as he pushes it out of the way of the door and nails dig into the palms of his hands as he steps back out into the courtyard. The fact December doesn’t remember what they had between them doesn’t hurt him at all, of course it doesn’t. That had probably all been a lie anyway, just another part of his plan.

**Author's Note:**

> For the next little while I’ll probably not be writing A3 quite as much and I don’t know how to feel that I’m leaving that off with uh… this kind of content.


End file.
